


The Death of Duty

by TheRedWulf



Series: Stansa One Shots [13]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Immortality, Immortals, Love, Mates, Regency, Regency Romance, Smut, Soulmates, Spooky, Supernatural Elements, Weird Plot Shit, plot holes, stansa, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 23:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21026741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Regency - In which a lost, broken vampire finds her true love on the rocky shores of Storm's End...Picset is viewableHERE





	The Death of Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts).

> This lovely spooky piece is based on a prompt from tommyginger and it is perfect for October!!
> 
> A warning, there are mentions of suicide in the beginning of this piece. So if that isn't your cup of tea, heads up.
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.  
Thank you for reading!

1819 - Outside London

Stannis stared across the moors, his eyes burning and bones weary from his long journey up the coast. He’d ridden hard and fast to reach Storm’s End, to reach his new prison. Most would have dallied, taken their time in reaching their destination of banishment, but he had continued as he always had; with efficient determination. 

Banishment. He ground his teeth at the memory of his brother’s dismissal of him from the Small Council. This surprising action was no doubt Cersei’s influence. And if not Cersei then surely her father, as the Lannister’s had long since wanted to be rid of ‘unbribable’ Stannis Baratheon. 

Robert had always been easily manipulated and it had only grown easier with time. Since Renly’s death amidst the rebellion and Roberts's ascension to the throne, Stannis felt the strain of supporting his brother acutely. 

He had worked hard. He had fought hard. And now he had nothing to show for it. Now, at last, he had been sent to the rural family seat of Storm’s End and given a moon’s turn to settle in before Robert would begin negotiations for Stannis’ soon-to-be pontifical marriage. 

His stomach turned at the thought. He had no desire to be shackled to a simple-minded girl who thought only of titles, finery and lace. A girl who, if given the chance, would take the King to her bed despite her vows. Stannis had seen it enough in court to know that it was shockingly acceptable and undeniably disgusting. 

Was fidelity and devotion too much to ask?

It was well past sunset, and the great Baratheon keep was finally within view but he paused, watching the rocky coastline of Shipbreaker's Bay, letting the salty sea air soothe his hackles. 

It was as he watched the tide that he saw the ghostly figure moving across the sand. Was she real? Or was she a spirit sent to haunt his prison?

In the moonlight she seemed to glow, her fiery hair and porcelain skin gleaming against the dark sand of the shore. She wore a diaphanous gown of all white, the material blowing in the breeze as she walked. 

He sat up straighter, his eyes suddenly wide open as he watched her walk not along but into the tide. The dark water splashed around her, the soaked material of her gown clinging to her slender frame. She was walking into the tide and showed no sign of stopping. 

“Damned bloody fool” he hissed. Spurring his warhorse into action, he rode down the jagged path, tearing through foliage and weeds alike to reach the sand. 

Smoothly dismounting, he ran after her, grateful that his polished hessians seemed to ward off most of the water. 

“No!” she yelled as he grabbed her impossibly cold wrist and dragged her back to the shore. “No!”

Stannis froze in place as she turned and fixed him with a glare, her eyes the most startling shade of blue he had ever seen. She was, in fact, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Perhaps she truly was a ghost, sent to haunt him.

She was young, stunning and nearly completely naked, the thin material of her robe made transparent by the water. He did his best to look away from the peaks of her breasts as he shrugged out of his great cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. His coat served to conceal her nudity and allow his brain to function once more. 

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” He grimaced as she watched him with that cold glare. 

“Yes” she replied firmly and he was shocked at the venom in her tone. 

“Why?”

Her glare melted and she gave an odd sort of sardonic laugh, “I just want this unbearable life to end” she said softly. 

“But you’re so young…”

“Am I?” she scoffed, looking away and back out to sea. 

“My lady—“

“Sansa” she turned back, her eyes softer now, haunted as if she had seen every spirit in the afterlife in the span of seconds. “Call me Sansa.”

“Sansa” he continued. “Allow me to escort you to Storm’s End, I can offer you food and shelter. Should you remain soaked thus, I fear you’ll catch a death of cold.”

“Not even influenza will take me” she whispered, shaking her head. “I will be alright, My Lord.”

“Stannis” he assured her, sensing that she needed more kindness than she let on. There was something about her, an all-consuming sadness that seemed to cling to her soul, weighing her down. It was haunting, to see eyes so young filled with so much pain.

“The Duke, then” she glanced to the large stone keep along the water. “I am honored, Your Grace.”

“I insist you call me ‘Stannis’, as I insist you accompany me to warm beside a fire” he gave a small bow of his head and motioned to the keep. 

“You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer then,” she said and he thought he saw a small twinkle in her eyes. 

“I won’t,” he assured her. 

“Alright” she pulled the cloak tighter around her body. “I thank you for your hospitality, Stannis.” She fell into step beside him, her long form easily keeping pace with his as they journeyed back to the ancient house. 

Sansa had certainly not expected this evening to take this sort of turn. In truth, she had chosen the shores of Storm’s End for its violent tide and absentee Lord. She thought it the perfect location to carry out her experiment uninterrupted, but she had not accounted for the arrival of Duke Stannis Baratheon, brother to the King, himself.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t have time to perform her experiment another night, though in all likelihood it would be the same result as the others, complete and utter failure. It was all complete and utter failure. 

She nearly laughed to herself as she recalled Stannis’ declaration of her age. While she was locked in the body of a woman of ten and nine, she would never age another day in her life. In fact, she hadn’t aged since that day nearly one hundred years ago when she had watched her entire family as they were devoured by creatures. 

As a little girl, she had thought that vampires existed only in legends and horror stories that children told in the dark to try to scare each other. She never would have dared to think they were real, not until they broke down the front door to her home and she watched as they murdered everyone. 

It did not matter if they were a Stark or a servant, death came to them all that night. A horrible, painful death that left blood sprayed across the expensive wallpaper that her mother had bragged about and the bodies of every member of the household strewn about the great mansion. 

Every heart had ceased beating at the hands of the monstrous savages that came from the darkness. Only once Sansa’s had stopped, she did not die. 

Hours after the attack ended, she opened her eyes to find everything revealed to her in such detail that she found it overwhelming. Sights, sounds and smells all bombarded her and she could not escape. She had blindly tried to run, but it was then she tripped over the body of her youngest brother, Rickon. 

She had forced herself to keep moving. To be strong. She worked diligently, burying each of the members of the family and household, before she packed a small bag and left, determined to find the creatures who did this. It wasn’t until she found herself holding the body of a man that she had drained of blood, that the horror of what she had become hit her. 

She was a monster, just like they were. Cursed to live this half-life for all eternity. She could not die. She could not love. She could only wander. Lost forever.

Decades passed and she learned to control her thirst, learned to move among humans for small bursts of time, but she spent most of her time in the uncharted woods in solitude. Every few years she would think of a new way that she may be able to die, and she would venture from the woods to attempt her experiment. Each time she failed, she would return to the woods to lick her proverbial wounds.

Pushing the thoughts aside, she frowned as they started up the path to the keep, the grass eventually giving way to wood and then stone steps. Walking with him, talking with him, was dangerous.

Stannis walked silently beside her, his jaw clenching and unclenching as they walked, his black as pitch horse following at his side. He looked an odd combination of uncomfortable and exhausted, a feeling she knew quite well. She could hear his heart racing, and sense his unease, both part and parcel to her little...curse. 

As they reached the courtyard, the torch and lantern light allowed her to better inspect his person. While she could see just as easily in the dark, she found the light illuminated more than just a person’s physical appearance. 

Turning, she looked up at Stannis’ imposing frame, his deep blue eyes watching her from his great height. Everything about this man, from his silver hair and wide shoulders, to his all-black attire and powerful gait, screamed command. Though he was not a young man, Stannis exuded something that she could not name, nor resist.

His presence was heady and undeniably compelling. If she did not know him to be purely human, she would believe him to be as supernatural as she. 

A fanciful notion, indeed. 

A heavy silence passed between them as they stared at each other in the courtyard. Neither of them willing to speak the first word, they, instead, evaluated each other as they would an opponent or unknown foe. 

As he looked over what she remembered were blue eyes and bright red hair, she took in the sharp cut of his jaw and the surprising fullness of his eyelashes. Stannis Baratheon, she determined, was a very handsome man. 

“Your Grace” a groom arrived, breaking their trance and Stannis turned away, clearing his throat as he passed off the reins of his destrier. 

Stannis gave the man a nod, “When you reach the others, have them send a fresh pot of tea to the Great Room” he instructed and turned to her, offering his arm. She cautiously placed her hand on his arm, aware that her touch would still seem shockingly cold to him. 

He led her inside the great keep, her eyes drinking in every detail of his ancestral home; from the rich carpeting to the gold and black decor, it was a fine house and it seemed to suit the man at her side. 

They crossed to the Great Room and the roaring fire that filled the stone fireplace. Sansa could feel the warmth of it as soon as they entered the room, her hands loosening on the coat around her shoulders. She knew that she should keep it closed, to preserve any sense of modesty that she had left, but the rich scent of Stannis that clung to the fabric was making it difficult to concentrate on appearing human. 

She watched from beside the fire as Stannis removed his black leather gloves, tossing them on the sideboard before he joined her.

“Where are you from, Sansa” he began. “Your accent is from the North, I’d guess?”

She nodded, “Near Wintertown, or once was,” she replied. Not a lie, though she had not been there in decades. 

Stannis nodded, accepting her answer, “And what brings you to Storm’s End?”

“Suicide” she said truthfully and his eyes turned to her in surprise. “I have shocked you.”

“I am not accustomed to hearing someone talk so flippantly of their own demise,” he replied as a servant entered, carrying a tea tray. They stood in silence as the servant set it on the table between the settee and chairs before scurrying away, leaving them alone once more. 

Sansa watched Stannis pour two cups of tea, his large, strong hands surprisingly gentle with the delicate porcelain. 

“How do you take it?” he asked. 

“Plain” she replied and he extended a cup to her before lifting his own, adding a dash of lemon. 

“Suicide” he repeated, shaking his head. “Why not the cliffs?” he asked, every logically. 

_Already tried it_ she thought. But instead shook her head, “The water looked peaceful.”

He nodded, “My parents died in those bay waters” he said softly and if her heart beat, she would have felt it go still. She had known that the Lord and Lady Baratheon had died at sea, but she didn’t realize it was so close to home.

“I am so sorry” she said lamely.

“Their ship was dashed upon the rocks and they drown only yards from the safety of home” Stannis continued. “I find that I will not allow any other to meet such a fate.”

“I apologize sincerely, I did not know” she set her tea aside and reflexively reached for his hand but halted her movement, returning her hand to the safety of the cloak.

“What would your own family say? Upon news of your death?”

“They would be waiting for me to arrive in the after-life, as they have been for many years,” she replied. “As are my brothers and my sister.”

“Then I am sorry for your loss as well,” he replied.

“They say time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t” she looked away from his intensely blue eyes and into the flames. “It just makes their faces harder to remember.”

“You are a young woman who carries great sadness” he whispered.

“Sadness is a being that I cannot seem to escape” she turned back to meet his eyes and felt a profound connection to him take root in her heart. In its wake, panic bubbled to life and she felt the urge to run. She _had_ to run. She had to escape it. Connections, emotions, they only led to pain and she couldn’t endure it. 

“Sansa” Stannis’ deep voice broke into her panic. “You’re tired, I should think. I will see to it that you have a room and we can continue this conversation on the morrow.”

She was unable to form words, her throat nearly closing up with emotion as he stood and exited the room. Her chest ached and she abruptly stood, removing his cloak from her shoulders to carefully lay it across the chair behind her and she ran. 

She was out of the house without a thought, her eyes burning as she ran through the cold, dead of night and back to her sanctuary in the forest. 

She ran as if the hounds of hell were chasing her. She ran and with every mile her feet ate up, she felt the pain in her chest increase. She ran until she collapsed to the forest floor, screaming in pain as she clutched at her breast.

She felt as if the very fiber of her being was being burnt away. She did her best to catch breath that she didn’t need, her fingernails digging into flesh that would not tear as she frantically tried to figure out what was wrong with her…

Stannis found himself staring out over the shore for the thousandth time since Sansa had vanished from his home nearly a sennight ago. Absently he rubbed his chest as he watched the evening tide, wondering what would have driven her from his company so quickly. 

He had not been able to shake the beautiful woman from his thoughts since the moment he laid eyes on her. He thought of everything about her; from the sadness in her eyes to the mole upon her left cheek and the fact that she had left her tea untouched. His cloak still smelled of her, a soft lavender scent that had soaked into the fabric, distracting him at every turn. 

He had inquired about town, subtly of course, to see if anyone knew her, but there was no Sansa living in or around the area. At least not that he could find. 

At times, he nearly believed that he had imagined her, that she truly had been a ghost sent to haunt him upon his return. After all, he was staring down the barrel of an arranged marriage, it would not be unheard of for him to imagine a beautiful alternative. But the servants remembered her well enough and her scent was too tangible to be conjured. 

She was real, but she had run. 

Why? His chest ached at the thought and he found himself rubbing the material of his waistcoat once again.

“Your Grace?” the butler, Cressen appeared at the entry to the balcony from the library and Stannis turned to face him. His eyes didn’t, however, linger on the butler as they instantly found themselves drawn to the tall, well-dressed beauty behind him. 

“Sansa, you’re here,” he whispered, dismissing Cressen with a nod. He moved into the library, drinking in every detail of her deep black gown and perfectly coiffed fiery hair. The robe-clad siren he had first met was gone, and in her place a true lady stood tall. 

“Stannis” she greeted with a curtsey, her vibrant eyes cautious as they watched his approach. 

“I thought you had vanished forever” he smirked. 

“I had intended to” she replied.

“And yet, you’re here” he reached for her hand but she stepped back, turning away. “Sansa---” he frowned. 

“There are things you should know,” she said, crossing to where a large mirror hung on the wall. “Many things, actually. None of them can be spoken of to another being, never.”

“Sansa are you in danger?” he moved towards her. 

“No” she shook her head and stepped in front of the mirror. “You are.”

“I don’t understand” he looked to the mirror and froze. His reflection stood alone, Sansa’s did not appear beside his. “What…” he reached out to touch her and this time she did not move away, but allowed his hand to close around her ice cold fingers.

“Promise me you will keep my secret” she asked. 

“I promise” he repeated dumbly, looking up at her face. In this moment, he would have promised her anything, if only she would never vanish again.

“I was born Lady Sansa Minisa Stark in the winter of 1724” she said softly. 

“1724, that would make you…”

“95, yes” she finished for him when he trailed off. Shock coursed through him as his mind raced to understand what she was telling him. “When I was ten and nine, my family and I were murdered, but when they killed me, they were sloppy and I did not stay dead.”

“Did not stay dead?”

“I became like them,” she continued. “I am a vampire, Stannis, and I---”

“That is not possible” he shook his head. “Vampires are not real.”

“I used to think the same thing” she stepped away from him with a soft smile and crossed to the antique desk and the golden dagger that sat on the surface. He watched her pick it up, weighing the metal in her slender hands, sliding the blade from its sheath with a smooth movement. 

“Sansa” he whispered, watching intently as she moved back to his side and raised the dagger. 

“I have tried over a hundred ways to end it” she said sadly, placing the tip of the dagger against her breast, just above the dip of her neckline. 

“Sansa!!!” he surged forward to stop her as she buried the blade in her chest. “What have you done?” he very nearly sobbed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He raised it to stem the bleeding but he found none, only porcelain skin.

“Stannis” she pulled the dagger slowly free, the wound healing as soon as the metal was gone. “I cannot die--no matter how I try, I cannot” she turned away and the dagger clattered to the floor. Reflexively he kicked the blade across the room and moved closer to her. 

She met his eyes, taking his hand and placing it over the whole and cold skin of her decolletage. He sighed as his hand settled over the flesh, his thumb tracing across the silk trim of her gown. Beneath his hand he felt no heartbeat, but he could feel a thrum of life, a unique echo that was Sansa and only Sansa. 

“I am a monster” she whispered. 

“No” he shook his head. “I have met monsters, I have faced them on the open field and you are not a monster. A monster would not carry such a burden of sadness.” 

“I am forced to kill to sustain this half-life,” she closed her eyes against a tide of pain. “I have lost everyone I have ever cared about, watched the world around me wither and bloom. I cannot…” she broke off, looking back into his eyes. 

He slid his hand from her sternum and up her neck to cup her cheek. His own heart was racing, the mere touch of this woman creating sensations in his that he had never experienced before. Sansa leaned into his touch, her own chilled hand coming up to cover his, holding it against her flesh. 

“I tried to run” she whispered, her eyes still closed. “To run far away from you, Stannis Baratheon, but I am too weak.” 

“Please” he stepped closer, her skirts brushing against his boots. “Do not run…at least, not to where I cannot follow.”

“I am not strong enough to watch you die” she said so softly that he could barely hear her. 

“Stay with me” he asked her. “Here, in Storm’s End. You can make this your home and we can get to know each other, learn all there is to learn about each other and then…”

“Stannis” she gave a sad smile, opening her eyes to watch him. 

“I want you in my life, Sansa Stark” he told her. “I do not care what you are, only that you are you.”

“I want you in mine,” she replied. “You have to promise me, Stannis, that if you should ever wish me gone, that you’ll tell me. I could not bear to linger longer than I am wanted.” 

“I promise” he swore, knowing that he would not be able to part with her. Not today, not in a sennight or in a year. He just had to figure out how to keep her. 

Sansa wandered the halls of Storm’s End, her hand reaching out to trail across the gilded frame on the portrait of Stannis’ mother, Cassana. She paused, looking up into the kind eyes of the once Lady Baratheon, wondering what it would have been like to know her. 

Sansa had met many people in her decades on earth, but she had learned to stay far away from nobility, kings especially. 

Cassana’s eyes held warmth and kindness, the same that could be found in Stannis’ eyes. Through their conversations, she learned a bit about Stannis’ close relationship with his mother and the rocky relationship he had with his brothers. 

Stannis was a good man, honorable and kind, but with little tolerance for the games and politics of society. She could not fault him for that, not truly. The games of society were tiring and when played, no one ever truly won.

She remembered, long ago, that her father had been trying to make a worthy match for her. A husband of noble birth who would provide for her, who would care for her. She would never have known who he had chosen, but she supposed it did not matter now. 

Frowning, she pulled her hand from the gilded frame and continued down the hall. She walked until she reached the glass garden on the back of the house, reclining across a wooden bench amidst the roses. 

She swallowed thickly, turning her eyes to the stars above her. She was deluding herself, she knew it, staying here with Stannis. She had run far away from Stannis, but the pain had been unbearable. She lay on the floor of the forest for days until she could no longer bear the burning knives in her chest and she had crawled back to the cottage where her belongings were. 

She cleaned, dressed and returned to Storm’s End. With each step closer to Stannis, the ache in her chest releasing until she laid eyes on him again. It was then that she felt the last tendrils of pain leave her and peace settle in its wake. 

That feeling was important, she knew it. It had to be. She had never felt it before and knew that it was only Stannis that had that impact on her. In nearly a hundred years, it was Stannis that changed everything. 

She relaxed in the glass garden for hours, until a flash of white passed the corner of her vision and she gave chase, her skirts flowing behind her as she followed the man across the shore. 

“Stop!” she called out and he turned, laughing at her as he slowed to a stop.

“You’re fast” he chuckled, running a hand through his golden blonde hair. He was tall, handsome and clad only in breeches and a linen shirt, his feet bare and filthy from the mud.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Another vampire, like yourself,” he smirked, leaning to recline on a fallen tree. 

“I gathered” she watched him. “This land belongs to the Baratheon family, you don’t belong here.” 

“I am just passing through on my way back home,” he explained. “You live here with your mate?”

“Mate?” she asked, frowning deeply. 

“My mate is in the south” he ran a tongue over his teeth. 

“Mate?” she repeated. “What does that mean?”

“Didn’t your sire--”

“Sire?”

“The one who turned you?” he stood, watching her closely. “Or were you…”

“Attacked” she explained. “I have learned my own way.” 

“Your sire should have explained everything to you” he continued. “Every vampire created is, in some stretch of history, half to another whole. We’re undead creatures, but we are no means without soul. As such, we have soul mates.”

“Soul mates” she stumbled back, leaning against the tree behind her. 

“You’ve felt it then” he chuckled. “There is no denying it. The moment you’ve met them, the pain to be away from them is even more unbearable than the thirst.” 

“The knives” she whispered, raising a hand to lay it over her heart. 

“Exactly” he nodded. 

“That means…”

“The only downside to your mate being human is, if you force the change on them, you are destined to watch their bodies wither to naught but ashes” he took a deep breath. “And I can smell your human mate.” 

“Ash” she gasped. 

“He must choose you,” the man repeated. “Choose this life.”

Sansa nodded, lost in her thoughts. It all suddenly made sense, the pain in her heart when she left Stannis, the need to feel him at her side, always. She had a million questions to ask, but as she raised her head to ask them, she found the blonde man was gone. 

Looking around the woods, she could not hear a thing out of place. He had simply vanished. 

Her mind racing, she turned back to the keep and followed the pull in her chest that lead her invariably to Stannis. 

Stannis looked up from his stack of letters to see Sansa sitting on the balustrade on the balcony, her head bent towards the sketchpad in her lap as she drew. Sansa had been an ‘artist-in-residence’ of sorts, her presence equally distracting and motivating. 

For the past fortnight, she had lived in Storm’s End at his side, though not in the way he wished. He knew, that any day now a letter would arrive from Robert, detailing the political alliance that Stannis would be forced to take part in. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he set his papers aside and stood, never removing his eyes from Sansa. Her fiery hair seemed to gleam in the late evening sun, her porcelain skin ethereal against the deep black of her gown. Today her hair was unbound, as had become his favorite, the fiery ringlets falling down her back to pool in her skirts. 

He had learned a lot about her in the last few weeks; about her long life and the struggles she had overcome. He found that the Sansa beneath the sadness to be bright and intelligent, her beauty shining through in all she did. 

He walked toward her, a man possessed and surrendering to the emotion that seemed to surge through him at every moment of the day. As he reached the balcony, she set her sketchpad aside and turned to face him, smiling and raising her hand. 

Gratefully, he took it in his, the cool temperature of her skin no longer a surprise to him, even through the black mesh of her gloves. Moving to her side, he raised his free hand to touch her cheek, smoothing over the porcelain of her jaw. 

“Sansa” he whispered. 

“I can hear your heart racing, Stannis” she smiled, reaching up to lay a hand over said heart, her thumb toying with the lapel of his coat. 

“As it is want to do, around you” he smiled. 

“I could listen to its rhythm forever” she admitted, her eyes closing as she listened. He simply admired her, the thick length of her eye lashes and the arch of her brows. 

“I could stay, in this moment, forever” he leaned his forehead against hers, the cool of her skin a balm against his. “This is the very ecstasy of love” he felt her hand slide from his lapel to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. 

Their lips met, softly at first, but soon they were both lost to the sensation, to the power of such a simple intimate act. His body found way into the curve of hers, his arms banding around her to hold her close. The rich scent of lavender surrounded him as her hair spilled over his arm, their touch like silk against his skin.

She sighed against his mouth, her lips parting to allow him to deepen the kiss. Her mouth, though cool, tasted incredible. She was a bit of heaven, paradise in this Gods-forsaken banishment. 

“Stannis” she gasped, tilting her head to the side as he burrowed his face into the silk of her hair and neck. “Please…” she pleaded, her voice breathless and soft.

“Tell me what you want” he begged, holding her tightly. “Sansa, please.”

“I love you” she whispered, kissing the right side of his chin. “As I have never loved any in my existence.” 

“And I you, my beautiful Sansa.” 

“Take me to bed, Stannis” she asked and he was unable to refuse her. 

He hauled her into his arms, lifting her at her back and knees with singular determination. Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, holding on to him as he carried her into the house, through the library and up the stairs. 

This woman, this beautiful, enchanting woman would be his, always. He would marry her, bind her to him in anyway she would allow and he would spend his days beside her. He would not--could not, be parted from her. That was a fate he would not accept. 

He carried her directly into his bed chambers, kicking the doors closed behind him as he connected their lips once more. She sighed against him as he lowered her to the counterpane, their bodies fitting together as they were always meant to. 

“Stannis” she whimpered, tugging away her gloves to run her hands through his short, silver hair. 

He shrugged out of his jacket without parting their lips, tossing the black material away before working at his cravat. Sansa’s hands moved to help his, untying the neckcloth before guiding his hands to the buttons along the front of her dress. 

She sat up as he moved to his knees, hands trembling as he undid her buttons and parted the dark material. He was grateful the buttons ran down the entire front, for when they were undone, he peeled the outer layer away to reveal the black corset and shift she wore beneath. 

“You’re stunning” he whispered, smoothing her hair over her shoulders to admire her. 

“Stannis” she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him back to her, kissing him deeply. 

He lay her back on the plush bed, their hands working in tandem to rid them of their clothing until he was able to trail his hands over the bare silk of her skin. She was beyond words, glowing like moonlight against the darkness of the blankets. 

Sansa whimpered as he trailed kisses across her cool collarbone and to the upper swell of her breasts, where he indulged himself and nuzzled against her full curves. Her hands ran along his back before kneading the muscles of his shoulders as he pulled a peak of her breast into his mouth. 

She cried out, arching towards him as she buried her hands in his hair, guiding him as he suckled her. Her flesh tasted of the very lavender she smelled of, her nudity as intoxicating as her whimpers. 

He moved from her breasts across her stomach, his hands stroking along the black silk stockings on her legs as he dipped his tongue into her belly button. 

“Stannis” she gasped as he slid his hand along the inside of her thigh and parted her legs, baring the most intimate part of her to his devouring gaze. The hair at the top of her core was the same fiery auburn as that atop her head, the curls concealing her until he parted her folds with clumsy fingers. 

His experience in such matters was limited to a clumsy, singular night in the army as a young man. There he had embarrassed himself the moment the woman laid hands on him through the fabric of his trousers. He had been mortified and his lust had never returned, not until he laid eyes on Sansa. 

Now he was grateful, for in this bed would be only them, and no haunting memories or past affairs to weigh them down. He would spend his life---any existence, with Sansa and he would never want to taint any of it. 

Drawing on every bawdy story and memory he could, he held her intimate flesh parted and lapped at her core. Her taste exploded on his tongue, tangy and unique, stirring his desire further. Her cries and mewls echoed in the darkening bed chamber, only the firelight filling the room as he worked her into a frenzy. 

“Please” she begged, tugging at his biceps. He had, momentarily, forgotten that her strength far exceeded his own until she pulled him back over her, her legs parting wide to accommodate his body. “You cannot hurt me,” she assured him. 

He settled over her, aligning himself with a shaky hand and dipping the head of his cock into her slick core. He exhaled roughly as she tilted her hips and he slipped further inside, the heat of her surprising and the tight clench of her body setting his jaw on edge. 

“Sansa” he whispered as he felt her legs wrap around him, her heels digging into the flesh of his ass. She pulled him closer and he felt her maiden’s gift give way as he filled her completely, impaling her upon his body. 

She cursed softly, gasping as she arched back, tilting her neck to expose the tender muscle and tendons. Stannis leaned down to capture them, gently, with his teeth, holding himself inside her as he teased her throat. 

Tentatively, he rocked his hips and Sansa’s hands shot out to the blankets beside her, fisting in the fabric as she choked out a cry. He could tell easily, however, that it was not a pained cry. No, this cry washed over his and soaked into his bloodstream, spurring him forward. 

Holding to the wooden headboard, he moved, withdrawing only to fill her once more. He could feel the drag of his cock against her inner walls, every delicious sensation that threatened to overwhelm him. 

A whimper escaped his own lips, and before he could be embarrassed by the soft noise, he leaned down to claim her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. Sansa returned his kiss, but held fast to the blankets, anchoring herself as he took her. 

The crackle of the fire and their gasps for air filled the room, his body already racing towards its peak, one he was doing his damnedest to hold back for as long as he could. Sansa arched her hips and as he surged forward, she screamed out in pleasure, her body trembling and pulled as tight as a bowstring beneath him. 

“Stannis” she mewled, and he pushed to his knees, his hands grasping her inner thigh to hold her wide, fucking her deeply. He watched her body move with his, her breasts bouncing each time he filled her. He glanced to where they were joined, his cock soaked with her juices and making each movement a smooth glide. 

“I---fuck” he groaned, moving in earnest, hips stuttering as his orgasm hit him with the grace of a great fall, the air rushing from his lungs as he shook violently. He shoved deep, spurting into her with a feral growl. 

His strength left him and he collapsed atop her, resting his weight on her impervious body. Her arms wrapped around him, soothing him as she hummed softly. He drew back enough to look into her eyes, the blue darkened with lust as she smiled back. 

“Stannis” she kissed him softly. 

“I love you” he smoothed her hair from her face. 

“And I you” she replied. “Sleep now, I will be here when you wake.”

“I will take you again, when I wake” he smirked, running a hand up the curve of her hip to cup the weight of her breasts. 

“I am counting on it,” she assured him as he pulled the blankets over them both. He rolled to his back and pulled her to his side, keeping an arm around her as he let exhaustion consume his body. 

Sansa lay beside Stannis’ form until she was certain he was asleep. Then, carefully she slipped from the bed and pulled on his dressing gown, stoking the fire and adding a few more logs to chase the chill from the room. 

She moved to the wash basin and cleaned the mess from her thighs, wiping away Stannis’ seed with a pang of agony. 

Were she any other woman, she would be thinking of children and what it would mean if she fell pregnant outside the bonds of marriage. But she knew that it would never quicken, not in her frozen body and she wished she could mourn the loss of the children she could never give him. 

Glancing to the cloth she felt the weight of sadness settling into her chest. Stannis had a duty to his family, to his title, to provide heirs and continue the Baratheon bloodline. He could not do that with her, and someday soon he would realize that. Stannis was a dutiful man, any who met him could see that, and he would do his duty to his family. 

This meant that soon she would be removed from his life and she should prepare herself for when the time came. 

Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, she moved to the small bookshelf and grabbed a thick novel before shucking the robe and sliding back into bed. Stretching out beside Stannis, she settled in to read. 

Her mind, however, wandered back to the feel of Stannis’ body joined with hers. The memory of his loving touch and his kiss, all imprinted on her brain forever. Smiling, she looked over at him, asleep beside her, his stern face much relaxed in slumber. 

How could she go back to living without him? Simple, she couldn’t. There was no way for her to continue without him. When he had to marry, she would find a way to end herself and the pain of being away from him. 

Relaxing against the pillows, she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart and the sound of the ocean beyond their balcony. She had come to love Storm’s End and it's beautiful surroundings. The sound of the ocean could relax her at any time, and Stannis’ scent seemed to linger on the air here, making it all the more homey.

Tomorrow night she would be forced to hunt, so she would run several towns over and find a criminal to feed on and dispose of his body. That was her small victory over the thirst she lived with. She would feed only on criminals, abusers and violent people, leaving the innocents safe. It was all she could do to protect the mortals around her. 

Opening the novel, she allowed Stannis’ heartbeat to soothe her as she read, passing the time until they could make love to each other once again.

Stannis set the letter on his desk, running a hand over his face as his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

It was done. Robert had sent word that in a moon’s turn Stannis would travel to the capitol and marry a woman named Selyse Florent. She was a well-born lady and her father had agreed to the match. 

His coffin has its final nail. 

He looked across the balcony to see where Sansa was reclined, reading in the early morning light. His love. His lover. The woman he had given his heart and his body to, without reservation or pause. He loved her, more than anything in this world, she was his treasure. Now he had to choose between her and his duty.

Realistically there was no choice, he would pick Sansa every day of the week and twice on Sundays. But she had not broached the subject of their future and he found himself too cowardly to ask her to marry him. 

She was a being of immortality, why would she want him? She could have any in the world, so why settle for a dour second son. They had been lovers a fortnight now, their bodies so in tune that he believed she knew him better than he knew himself. In the span of two-weeks he had gone from a man uneducated in the female body, to one who knew every intimate detail of his Sansa and her whimpers. He knew what each gasp, each tremor meant and they held nothing back in their coupling. 

“Stannis?” Sansa called as she entered the library. “Are you alright? I can hear your heart racing…” she trailed off as she reached his desk and saw the royal seal of Robert’s letter. 

“My brother” he swallowed thickly. “Has arranged a marriage of alliance between myself and Lady Selyse Florent.”

“Oh” she closed her eyes and looked away, her features falling into a perfect mask as she looked to the fireplace. “I see.”

“Sansa” he stood and crossed to her but she stepped back. 

“You will do your duty then?” she asked. 

“My duty is all I have ever done,” he stated. 

She nodded, “I see.” 

“Sansa---”

“If you will excuse me” she cleared her throat and set the book she had been reading on his desk. 

“Sansa, wait--” he called after her, but she seemed to vanish before his very eyes, leaving only a vague hint of lavender and the sharp ache in his chest. 

Sansa ran. 

She ran through the trees, her skirts snagging and tearing as she sped by vines and thorns, but she paid them no mind. What was a single dress when her heart had been torn from her body? 

She did not stop, not until the pain her chest was too much and she finally collapsed, sobbing as she curled into a ball on the forest floor. 

Stannis was to marry. He was betrothed to a lady, a true lady, who could give him sons. So many sons. He no longer belonged to her, he was to marry another. 

She cried, laying on the foliage and uncaring of the dirt and dried leaves around her. She did not feel the autumn chill, but instead only felt the pain in her broken heart. 

Not for the first time, she cursed this broken, incomplete body that she was trapped in. Immortal, strong and powerful she may be, she was broken beyond repair. She had been born a lady, noble and of old blood, and were she still mortal she would be worthy of Stannis. But as she was, she could not give him what he needed most, and that was sons. 

She wished that she could die...

She lay on the forest floor, mourning her loss for days as the sun rose and set, her body unmoving beneath the canopy of trees. 

_Stannis_ she mourned. _Stannis_. 

Footsteps reached her ears, but she was too weak, her body too broken and she could only close her eyes and pray to whatever Gods would listen to a demon like her. 

“We have no word of her” Cressen told Stannis several days later when Sansa had still not been located. It had been over a sennight and he was quickly becoming frantic.

He had searched everywhere for her, sending men on patrols night after night, each of them returning without any clue to her whereabouts.

He had hoped, in vain, that she would return once she had processed his announcement and that they would be able to come to a better path, together. He had hoped, as he had from the moment he realized he was in love with her, to marry her and her alone. His love. His lover. 

Robert’s letter had still gone unanswered. He could not marry another, not when every piece of him belonged to Sansa. This point, this juncture, was the very death of duty. His duty would end here, forever. 

Shouting sounded in the courtyard and he all but ran through the halls, entering the foyer at the same time a blonde man carried Sansa’s unmoving body through the front door. 

“Sansa---” he ran to her, his heart breaking at her grey parlour and ruined dress. 

“She has been laying in the woods for days” the golden-haired man said and Stannis finally looked at him, eyes wide with shock. Though barefoot and bedraggled, he was still every inch the man he was born to be. 

“You’re--”

“I was, but that is no matter” the man cut him off. “Where can I lay her?” 

Stannis lead him up the stairs and to the master’s chambers, watching as the man laid Sansa across the black counterpane. 

“I have been searching for her” Stannis explained. 

“She was about three days ride from here,” the man said. “She had not fed in some time, which is why she is catatonic.” 

“How did you know to bring her here?”

“We met several weeks ago, her and I” the man explained. “I could smell you on her, her mate.”

“Mate?” Stannis froze.

“She didn’t tell you?” 

“No” Stannis clenched his jaw. 

“For our kind, meeting your mate is like lightning,” he explained. “From the moment we meet them, if we are parted we physically hurt until we are with them again.” 

“Hurt?” Stannis frowned, remembering the ache in his chest. 

“Like knives in our chests” the man nodded. “She felt it when she was away from you, I thought she would have told you…”

“No” Stannis shook his head. “She did not mention it.” 

“Understandable” the man nodded, leaning against the windowsill across the room. “She can’t give you what your title needs. Our bodies are frozen, trapped in this odd state between life and death. I simply ran from mine, she could not steal you from yours.” 

“You think” Stannis swallowed, shaking his head as agony ripped through him. “She would have let me marry another out of…”

“Duty” the man said and Stannis’ legs gave out and he sank to the edge of the bed. His mind raced, remembering his last conversation with Sansa. About duty. She had taken his words as his promise to marry another, and she had run. Even if it destroyed her, she had run. 

“How do we bring her back” Stannis asked, looking to her unmoving form. 

“I will grab a man from town,” the man said. “She will need to feed. Your proximity will help, so don’t go too far.” 

“I will be here” Stannis assured the man who gave a nod and made his way to the window. 

“I will return quickly,” he said and lept to the ground. 

Moving closer to the head of the bed, Stannis reached out and took Sansa’s dirty hand into his own, holding her cold fingers tightly until they slowly curled around his. He held to her, watching her for several moments before he spoke. 

“When I was a boy” he started. “I found an injured goshawk near the forest. I named it ‘Proudwing’ and I took it under my care. Robert never saw reason to care for an injured animal or another being, but I did all I could to nurse it back to health. Its wing had been broken, you see, and it could not fly. I carried it everywhere and it soon became a staple of my shoulder” he paused when Sansa let out a soft whimper, her body curling in on itself. He continued when she was settled against. “After my parents died, my great uncle convinced me to let Proudwing go. I had a younger brother to care for now and I didn’t need to take up with silly birds” he shook his head. “I watched Proudwing fly away, though it could not reach the great heights it had before. And not a moon goes by that I don’t wish I had kept it close, safe.”

Several minutes passed and Sansa whimpered his name this time, “Stannis…”

“I am not going to let you go, Sansa” he told her, raising her hand to kiss the back. “I love you, that doesn’t simply change because you are not human.” 

He sat with her in silence for another quarter-hour until the blonde man returned, this time through the window with an unconscious man draped over his shoulder. 

Stannis stood and allowed the man to carry the body to Sansa, “This should do the trick,” the man said, snapping the unconscious man’s neck and slicing his flesh with a deft fingernail. He lowered the body to Sansa and Stannis heaved a sigh of relief as Sansa’s eyes snapped open and she latched on to the dead man’s throat. 

She fed eagerly, making quick work of the man and when she had her fill, she released him, wiping her lips with the fabric of her sleeve. 

“I will take care of him” the blonde man said to Sansa, heaving the dead body over his shoulder. “Tell him, and don’t waste time. We only have this life, don’t squander it on the floor in the woods.” 

“Thank you” Sansa said softly and the man gave a nod to them both before vanishing out the window with the body. 

He stood by the fire in silence for several minutes before he spoke, “How long have you known?” 

“Known?”

“Mate.”

“Oh” she whispered. 

“That is what we are, correct?”

“Yes” she sat up straighter, smoothing her bodice. “I knew from the moment I met you, I felt the connection form.” She turned and hung her legs over the side of the bed, her strength having returned. “I didn't know what it meant, but the man, we crossed paths in the woods and he told me about the mating bond.” 

“Were you going to tell me?” 

“No” she shook her head, looking away in shame as she stood. 

“Why not?” he demanded. 

“You’re a Duke” she started. “With a duty to your title. A duty that I cannot---”

“Fuck duty!” he spat and she turned to him in surprise. “If duty means that I cannot spend my days at your side, then I do not want it. My duty is dead, from this moment on, I have no duty but the duty to you!” 

“Stannis--”

“I love you, Sansa” he moved to stand before her, taking her face in his hands. “I meant those words every time I said them. I took you to my bed, I made you my wife in all ways but name and I could never marry another. Not now that I have met you.”

“Stannis” she said softly, placing her hands over his heart. “I cannot…..I cannot ask you to do this---ask you to die.” 

“You do not have to ask,” he countered. “I will. WIllingly.”

“Stannis---”

“I would spend every day for the rest of forever at your side” he kissed her forehead. “Husband and wife. Mates. Companions. Lovers.” 

“I cannot force the change on you” she whispered. 

He kissed the tip of her nose, “Marry me, Sansa Minisa Stark? Be my wife, my everything for now and always.”

“I cannot give you sons” she choked on a cry and buried her face in his shoulder. 

“My darling” he wrapped his arms around her. “I just want _you_.”

“I love you” she whimpered. “I have existed for nearly a hundred years, but I have not lived until I met you, Stannis Baratheon.” 

“Is that a yes?” he prompted. 

“Yes” she pulled back to look up at him. “Yes.” 

“And you will make me like you? We can spend eternity together?”

“Yes” she nodded, tilting her lips to his as he bent to kiss her. 

Sansa had been on the verge of death she had sought for so long when she found herself back in Stannis’ care. Back in his arms, safe and happy. 

She melted into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and clinging to him as he parted her lips with his tongue. Their kiss was uninhibited, wild and desperate, both of them wanting to lay claim to the other in any way that they could. 

Stannis. Her Stannis. He would be hers forever, always by her side. 

She held to his shoulders as he lifted her and carried her back towards the bed. She helped him to tear away her ruined gown before she worked his waistcoat and cravat free, anxious to have Stannis’ body joined with hers. 

“I love you” she whispered as he lowered her to the mattress, the last of their clothing falling away to ugly heaps on the carpeting.

“I love you” his deep voice rumbled as he settled atop her, kissing her deeply. 

“I am yours and you are mine” she gasped as he took her hands in his, pinning them over her head. His mouth trailed over her jaw and neck, raining kisses across her flesh. 

“Until the end of our days” he promised, holding her wrists with one hand and letting the other wander her body, ghosting across her hip and towards her core. 

“Stannis” she mewled as he parted her sensitive flesh and stroked her, the tip of his finger sending electricity through her body. 

“Mine” he raised his fingers to his mouth, licking them before lowering teasing her nub once more. “I could watch you forever.” 

“Please” she pleaded. 

“Please?” he smirked, pulling the tip of a breast into his mouth, teasing the peak until she was writhing beneath him. 

“Stannis!” 

“I am yours and you are mine” he echoed her earlier words, nuzzling her breasts. 

“Always” she gasped and arched against him. 

Sansa watched his mouth melt into a small smile as he used his hands to spread her legs wide, settling between them. Taking himself in hand, he teased her folds until she growled in frustration. It was then that he began to sink into her, slowly. Inch-by-inch he filled her until they were fully joined, her body impaled upon his own. 

“Yes” she moaned, wrapping her legs around him as he released her wrists. Her hands delved into his cropped silver hair as he braced himself over her, kissing her softly. “I love you.” 

“I love you” he replied, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm as their bodies moved together. She held tightly to him, savouring each detail of the moment. From the sweat upon his brow to the way his hot, thick cock felt as it moved within her, she committed it all to memory. 

She could tell by the catch in his breathing that he wasn’t going to last much longer, her strong handsome mate, losing himself to the pleasure of their coupling. She did not know how she had gotten so lucky, to find a mate that she didn’t even know to look for, and to love him so dearly, it was incredible.

“Stannis” she whimpered and when he paused, she rolled him beneath her, using her strength and agility to move astride his hips. 

“Gods” he groaned as she moved, riding him smoothly, pushing her hair behind her shoulders. “You’re perfection.” 

Bracing her hands on his chest she ground against him as she lowered herself, sighing in pleasure. The way his cock filled her, the way she felt stretched and full, it sent chills through her and she knew that it wouldn’t take long for her to be screaming in pleasure. 

“Stannis” she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, biting gently as she moved. 

His hands raised to cup her breasts, teasing the jeweled nipples for several minutes before he moved a hand to where they were joined, his thumb stroking her swollen bundle of nerves as she rode him. 

“That’s it” he encouraged, his deep voice rumbling through her. “Come for me.”

“Yes” she rode him faster, harder, filling herself completely over and over. “Yes” she gasped and sobbed his name as she came, her body seizing around his in violent orgasm. 

“Fuck” he growled, grabbing her hips tightly and fucking into her several times before he came, pouring into her in heated jets that had his body bowed and jaw locked. 

“Mine” she rocked against him. 

“Always” he promised and she lowered her lips to his neck, sinking her teeth into his flesh. 

_Always._

Present Day ~2019

“You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going?” Stannis smirked, relaxing in the passenger seat of the car with the blindfold over his eyes. 

“Not at all” she laughed as she drove. “Let’s just hope the smell doesn’t give it away.” 

“It won't with this damned air freshener you stuffed in here. You’re a sneaky one,” he replied. 

“Always have been” she agreed, turning their SUV and piloting it down the driveway. 

Today was their anniversary. Not of their wedding, per say, but of their mating and today marked 200 years together. No small length of time, Sansa smiled, glancing to the golden band that had been on her left hand for many, many years. 

It had come as a great shock to King Robert Baratheon, when his brother had vanished completely from the world. He was presumed dead a moon’s turn later, and an empty casket was buried. Sansa and Stannis had watched from the hill as the box was interred. Lady Selyse Florent had married another, and Stannis and Sansa chose to spend their first years as a married pair wandering the world. There was no duty, no obligation, just them.

Stannis had settled into his life as a vampire with remarkable ease. He had, much to his delight, regained some of his black hair when he awoke to his immortal life. Sansa found that she often missed the true silver of his hair, but she would take Stannis however she could have him. She would never complain. 

They had married a month after Stannis’ change, exchanging vows in a small church in the North, binding themselves forever. Finally husband and wife.

It had been hard for Stannis to watch Storm’s End pass to one of Robert’s bastards but he assured her that he did not regret his choice. It was only that he loved the land so much, he hated to see it mistreated. 

Hence, Sansa smiled to herself as she parked beside the stone mansion, why today was so important. 

Two hundred years later, the house was still as imposing and beautiful as ever, even if it had fallen into disrepair. That would soon be fixed, she mused as she shut off the engine. The Baratheons had come home.

“Is that the ocean” Stannis smiled, turning to look at her even though he was blindfolded. 

“Yes” Sansa said. “Hold on” she exited the driver’s seat and rounded to his side, opening the door and guiding him out and onto the cobblestone driveway. “Smell?”

He turned his nose to the breeze, “Salt. Roses….” he paused. “Stone and ...Sansa.. Are we--?”

Sansa removed the blindfold from his eyes, “Welcome home.”

“Home” he stared, wide-eyed at the stone mansion that had housed Baratheons for centuries.

“It's yours” she pulled the paperwork from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. 

“What?” he gaped.

“It took a while, but I wouldn’t give up,” she smiled. “It needs a lot of work, but we can handle it. Storm’s End is yours, as it always should have been.” 

“Sansa” he met her eyes and she could see the emotion in his dark blue depths. “You mean…”

“I mean” she went on tiptoe to kiss him. “Welcome home.” 

“Gods” he pulled her into his arms and she held him tightly, melting into his strength as she always did. 

Stannis in a suit and cravat had been handsome, but Stannis in dark jeans, a henley and his usual leather jacket was devastating. Her husband had only grown more handsome with time, a fact that she continued to enjoy. 

“Thank you” he kissed her neck, nuzzling against her as the breeze danced around them. 

“Happy Anniversary” she whispered against his cheek, kissing it softly. 

“Two hundred years” he smiled, kissing her temple. “And I still love you more each day.”

“Such a romantic” she kept her arms wrapped around his midsection. “I thought, maybe once we’ve finished with the house, we could see about that paperwork.” 

“Oh?” he smirked. 

“There are so many babies that need homes, Stannis” she whispered. 

“I know” he ran a hand through her hair. “Which is why I filed the paperwork three moons ago.”

“You did?” she gasped. 

“I did” he nodded. “Happy anniversary.” 

“Oh my Gods” she jumped into his arms, holding tightly as he spun her around. “I love you!”

“And I you” he promised, kissing her soundly before setting her on her feet and taking her hand. “Now then, shall we explore, Mrs. Baratheon?” 

“We shall, Mr. Baratheon” she agreed. 

They moved together, entering the great ancestral home where they had fallen in love so many years ago. Times have changed, the world has evolved, but they had never faltered. Two hundred years ago she met an incredible, stoic and unique man, and she had not parted from him since. 

She came to the rocky shores of Storm’s End to end her life, but found it instead.

“It’s perfect” Stannis declared as they stood in the grand foyer, spiderwebs and dust clogging their senses. The previous string of owners had not been kind to the house, but they had the time, money and resources to fix that. She couldn’t wait. 

“Perfect” Sansa agreed, squeezing her husband’s hand. _Perfect_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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